


Protect Me

by aph_aleks (orphan_account)



Series: PolyBeatles [5]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Crossdressing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jim McCartney is a dick, M/M, The boys love Paul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-04-23 10:51:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19149538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/aph_aleks
Summary: Paul finally realises that his dad has been abusing him. George, Ringo and John really, really hate Jim McCartney, and really, really love Paul McCartney.





	Protect Me

Paul wrapped his arms around John and collapsed against him, tears falling from his eyes as he thought about the events that had just happened.

 

He had ran from his own home and found himself at John’s house - George and Ringo were on their way, he’d found out when he arrived - he didn’t know how he felt about that. 

 

John and Paul were in John’s bedroom, on his bed.

 

“He hurt me- he hit me  _ again _ -” The younger sobbed and held onto John’s shirt like it was the only think keeping him alive - like John was the only thing keeping him alive, “Called me- he called me a slut for wearing sk-skirts,” Paul lowered his voice, “Said he doesn’t know why I haven’t killed myself yet.”

 

John held Paul tighter, keeping him protected from the world in his arms - nobody was allowed to hurt him like that, not without consequences. 

 

Paul had put up with this for too long, the constant yelling and not being good enough for his father, the beating, it was  _ heartbreaking _ , it really was - John had had enough of Paul coming around to his at two in the morning, crying and sobbing, muttering about how worthless he was. He knew he needed to do something about this, he  _ knew,  _ but he didn’t know  _ what. _

 

He could hire a hitman to kill Jim McCartney - no, that would be too expensive, hitmen  _ do  _ cost a lot, and John didn’t really want a murder on his hands or on his concsious. He could go to Paul’s house and beat the living fuck out that piece of shit who called himself a father, but that would probably get  _ him  _ involved with the police as well, which he didn’t want (he had a questionable browsing history). He thought for a few minutes, rubbing Paul’s back gently as the younger continued to sob against him. He could… he could turn him into the police. Yeah! Yeah - that was a good idea. Or not, actually. There would have to be a trial and they’d have to file a report and all that jazz-

 

“Ow! You dipfuck!” The two heard a bang outside of John’s bedroom and instantly knew who it was, Ringo and George.

 

“What does  _ dipfuck  _ even mean?” George squeaked from behind the closed door.

 

Then they heard shuffling, and giggling. Another bang.

 

“Oi! We’re supposed to be here to see John, not to make out in his house!” Ringo said, not knowing John and Paul could hear their every word.

 

“C’mon, we’re all dating, it’s fine- ow! Fine,” The door opened slowly to reveal George and a very flustered Ringo standing in the doorway, holding hands. 

 

“Paul?” Ringo spoke first, stepping into the room and closing the door behind them, “Come ‘ere, baby. What happened?” 

 

Paul was still crying, not sobbing as much, but still crying heavily, the previous events playing over and over again in his head - a headache had began to form, and he knew it would be a nasty one. He slowly moved away from John to get to Ringo, who was sat down next to John with his arms spread for a hug - the younger sat in his lap and gladly accepted the embrace, Ringo’s arms wrapping around him tightly. 

 

He cried, this time, against Ringo, letting emotions flood from his eyes instead of speaking them aloud - the others already knew what this was about because this was what it was  _ always  _ about, Ringo felt stupid for asking what happened after seeing the bruise forming on Paul’s cheekbone.

 

George sat next to John, leaning his head on the older’s shoulder timidly, “We need to do something about this,” He said softly, looking at the other three for confirmation, “This can’t keep happening.”

 

John merely hummed in agreement, leaning his head on top of George’s - he was right, they really did need to do something, they just had to get Paul on board with it. 

 

“We can’t,” Paul spoke up, his voice shaky and unsure, “He’ll be angry.” He looked at Ringo with pleading eyes and then at the other two, hoping that they would change their mind and leave it. Obviously, he had no such luck and this was evident when Ringo kissed his cheek and sighed.

 

“We have to, Paul,” Ringo looked back at Paul with a stern expression, “We have to.”

 

“B-but-” Paul began to speak but was cut off as Ringo’s lips pressed against his, silencing him - George and John shared a look, an unspoken agreement that no matter what Paul said, no matter where Paul agreed or not, they would do something. They would stop all this hurting.

 

“You’re not a slut for wearing skirts, darling,” John smiled at Paul as Ringo pulled away from the younger, “You look adorable in them.”

 

Paul blushed darkly and looked down at the skirt he was wearing, a black flowy one that stopped at his knees - it was sprawled out across Ringo’s lap as he was still sat there comfortably. He always loved sitting in their laps, he loved being close to the other three (in more ways than one, but that’s for another time) because it made him feel loved, on so many different levels - he really didn’t know how to explain it. 

 

“I guess,” Paul spoke quietly, “I don’t know.” He continued, surprised when George spoke up this time, clearing his throat, “You’re literally the best person I’ve ever met,” He looked between John and Ringo, “No offence.” 

 

John and Ringo both smiled at George, nodding in agreement, “I mean… It’s the truth.”

 

“Well,” Paul beamed, “You three are the best people I’ve ever met, too!” He laughed softly and wiped the tears away.

 

“What do you all want to do today?” Ringo asked them all, already having an inkling of what they were going to say - something they always did after things like this (and in general, it was something that bought them all immense amounts of comfort).

 

"Cuddles?" Paul suggested, a small smile forming on his face when George pulled him off of Ringo's lap and into his own, kissing his cheek gently. He moved back so he was up against the headboard with the older in his lap, facing him. Paul instantly wrapped his arms around George, resting his head on the younger's shoulder - he smiled wider, enjoying the feeling of… of  _ George.  _

 

John shuffled closer to the two and grabbed a blanket from the end of the bed, placing it on Paul's shoulders. He lifted one side and curled up next to George, his head resting on the younger's arm comfortably - warmth enveloped the three as they all leaned on one another.  

 

Ringo looked at them, sighing - they seemed happy like that, he thought. He didn't want to ruin it for them, the warmth and love they felt. He moved slowly to try and stand up, but the bed shook more than he thought it would and alerted John, who looked at him with glazed eyes. "C'mere," He said softly, reaching his arms out towards the older. 

 

Ringo moved closer to John, letting the younger pull him in towards him, practically into his lap - the older sat facing away from John, back to John's chest. It was comfortable. He could feel Paul's arm against his own, fingers lacing together weakly. 

 

Paul was falling asleep, slowly but surely. 

 

"I love you guys," He slurred slightly, patting down his skirt, "Don't leave me." 

 

George kissed his forehead and placed a hand on his cheek, "We could never leave you, we love you too much," He smiled. 

 

"Aye, what about me?" John whined, looking up at them with hooded eyes and a pout - the younger two smiled at him before George leaned down to kiss him softly, "We love you, too." He said, Paul humming in agreement. 

 

"And you, Ritchie." Paul smiled at him. 

 

"You better," He laughed, "Love you guys too."

 

A few moments of silence fell upon the four, nothing but their soft breathing to fill it. None of them dared to speak and break the comfortable silence and so they sat and lay, wrapped in each other's arms.

 

They’d do something about Jim McCartney later, but for now, all they could focus on was one another.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

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